The Aftermath
by Oneshot Shipper
Summary: Ralph deals with his part in the chaos and the process of returning to civilization. Will what he learned on the island destroy him? How does one come back from such a traumatic experience?
1. Chapter 1

Hi there. This is for a big literary project I have to do, and it will be broken down into a couple of chapters. Any criticism I would greatly appreciate!

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_"I should have thought… I should have thought that a pack of British boys… you're all British, aren't you? – would have been able to put up a better show than that… I mean..." _

The officer's words seemed to remain stuck in Ralph's head. Along with quite a few other things. A grownup was back in their lives, and with him, reason and order. However, in Ralph's mind, there was anything but order and reason. The boy sometimes wondered if those two concepts actually existed, or were society's largest lies. There was certainly a lack of order and reason on that island. And now that the boys were off it, Ralph should have been relieved for what he had been trying to achieve since the first day. He should have been happy that he was going home, back to normalcy. But he was not. Something ate away at his soul, though Ralph could not begin to identify what it was. It weighed down upon him, made him empty inside. It made him fear every noise, every sound, and every movement. It made him scared of himself and what he was able to do; what humanity was able to do. He couldn't explain this to the man that rescued them. He had admittedly thrown a tantrum fitting for a small child, right before he had taken them on the ship.

"Keep me away from them!" He had screamed. "I won't go near them!" Jack hadn't said a word since they had all set the island on fire, and chased him onto the beach like a hunted animal. They had all turned into animals…Except Simon…

No, he would not think of it.

The naval officer, who had introduced himself as Mr. George, had not completely understood Ralph's fears, but gave him what he requested. Mr. George turned out to be the commander of the ship they were now on and let Ralph stay in his quarters. The boy would have not known what to do if he had been forced to remain with the other boys. The rest of them stay huddled together down in the galley. The men of the ship had washed their face paint off and given them fresh clothing that hung too big on all of them, especially the littluns. This had not warranted any complaints from the boys. It was silence for nearly all of them. No one wanted to speak and describe what had occurred.

Ralph sat in a spare chair that had been brought to Mr. George's chamber. He did not look at up at the doctor and commander that looked over him. He could hear the doctor scribbling down notes on paper. His head was lowered in shame, in guilt, in terror.

Mr. George cleared his throat. "Hullo? Boy, you have to talk. No one else is speaking to us since I found you. And you mentioned deaths on this island? What happened?" Ralph did not respond, feeling the weight continue to bear down on him. At his silence, the commander and doctor exclaimed glances.

The doctor tried. "Lad, we need to know. You said you were the leader. You have to talk. So we can fix it." He spoke gently, as if that would help anything. Nothing could fix this pit of numbness and nothingness inside of him. The island had claimed not only his innocence, but his soul. It had ripped it from his body.

When Ralph remained silent, Mr. George lost his temper. He exclaimed, "Bloody hell, boy! For the love of God, tell us something!"

He finally glanced up at the two, his face showing absolutely no emotion. His eyes seemed darker in a way, more haunted. "My name isn't boy," he told them, a hint of bitter venom underneath his words. "It's Ralph." Could he even be considered a boy anymore?

"Thank you, Ralph," Mr. George said, calming himself down considerably. Ralph watched as he finally took a seat across from him, the doctor now moving to another chair a bit away from them, in order to give them some space. The man cleared his throat, "What did you mean yesterday? When you told me that two died…?" Ralph doubted that Mr. George would even believe him.

It took him a few moments to respond. He feared the response of this man, and what he would think of him when he learned what had happened. "Actually…" he began, "I think there's three, sir." His throat was in danger of closing up, and he was in danger of sobbing again. "… One of them, I don't really know. He ran off, a littlun, and he never came back." Ralph spoke a little quieter, "A fire went out of control." He might have met the heat of a fire, embracing a fate that Ralph narrowly avoided. "And the other two…" Boulder falling, bloodlust, absolute madness, the sound of a crunch. His voice broke, "We killed them."

"My God…" Mr. George exclaimed, rubbing a hand through his hand in distress. He looked at Ralph cautiously, "Boy… Excuse me. Ralph. Are you sure you…er… saw things correctly? Was it an accident?"

He trembled, his shoulders shaking as the tears started to come again. "I see things too correctly now." Ralph had to look down again as he recounted the next part. He could not bear to see the commander's expression. "J-Jack Merridew. He's the one with the red hair." He was the one that could openly display what resided inside of every human being on this earth. But Ralph had no idea of how to explain this to Mr. George. "He liked to h-hunt. And we had to have food. He and other boys had to hunt animals for food."

"That's perfectly natural," the commander responded.

"But one night, it w-wasn't an animal we hunted," Ralph whispered. The doctor hurriedly wrote down every word he said. "We hunted down a boy named S-Simon. We slaughtered him like a p-pig. All of us. Me too. I joined in." It was not as if he struck Simon! He just participated in the dance! It was an accident! But deep in his heart, he knew nothing could be verified. He was guilty, he was guilty!

"Jesus…"

Ralph was going to have another breakdown. His breathing became more labored as he attempted to relay everything he wanted to say onto the men. "Another boy, P-Piggy." It hurt to say his name. "He was my friend. He stayed on my side, and I treated him so awfully." He was just another mean and cruel bully that Piggy had been dealing with for his short life. "And then… Roger. He killed him. For no reason!" Tears were rolling down his cheeks as his entire body shook with his sobs. The numbness was fading. "He pushed a rock down and it hit him. Just like that! Piggy was crushed and gone, and floating down into the sea!" He had not once asked Piggy his real name, not once really thanked him. Not once.

"Ralph! Ralph!" He couldn't hear, he couldn't breathe. Someone was shaking him. He could only hear the roaring in his ears, the sounds of yelling and savage chanting. Ralph could only see red, the laughing of the Lord of Flies. The real Beast?

_"__Kill the beast! Cut his throat! Spill his blood!"_

_"__Kill the beast! Cut his throat! Spill his blood!" _

**Humanity. **

Ralph felt himself falling, the noises spinning around in his head, blending together. Everything went dark.


	2. Chapter 2

After that episode, the men did not ask him about it again. He had actually fallen into unconsciousness from his breakdown. He felt humiliated at that, honestly. His head had hurt badly when he had come back to reality, and Mr. George had allowed him to rest on his own bed. He sat up quietly, looking down in shame as the commander observed him. Would he, along with Jack and Roger, be put in a prison?

"We will not talk about it anymore," Mr. George told him, and seemingly making a hard decision, swallowed. "What happened on that island was a complete accident, yes?" He pressed. "In a fit of madness, you boys mistook Simon for an animal, and that boy Roger did not mean what he did." Ralph frowned. "But Ralph, lad. I need to know. What were their names? Simon's surname and Piggy's real name?"

"I don't know sir," He answered, wiping the final tears from his eyes.

Ralph remained by himself for a couple of days. Mr. George had been the only one he had spoken to in that time. He had told of the events he had missed while on the island. Apparently, the Germans were beginning to be pushed back. The bombings of England, while still going on, were not as prevalent as before. Ralph took this as splendid news, because hopefully it would soon to be one less war that he would have to face at his young age. Mr. George had given him the news that the boys would be taken back to England and everything from that point would be taken care of by capable adults.

As he sat alone, merely staring at the wall of Mr. George's quarters, Ralph had a sudden realization. He was a bloody coward. This entire time he had been hiding in this place of security, and avoiding all of the other boys. He had been hiding instead of facing his problems. He wondered what exactly his father would say if he saw him now. If Ralph stayed in this room the entire voyage home, Jack would have power over him and win. He could not let that happen. With a newfound presence of determination, Ralph stood up and left the room. He consoled himself with thoughts of reason as he walked down to the galley. The boys wouldn't be able to do anything to him, now that they did not have the means to. Their sharpened sticks were left on the burning island. Ralph also assumed that the littluns had lost most of their drive and bloodlust. Or at least, he hoped so.

"Nice to finally see you, Ralph," a voice spoke up, almost sounding like it was taunting him. Roger sat outside the entrance to the galley, simply staring up at Ralph from his location. While Roger now looked much less demonic than he had during the final days on the island, there was still something completely unnerving about him. Something inside of Roger had been unlocked and could not be hidden away again. When Ralph looked into his dark eyes, there seemed to be nothing there. No humanity, no empathy, no grief. It was as if he was looking into a void, which contained nothing. At times, Roger frightened him more than Jack.

"Roger," he simply acknowledged. He deserved the title of 'murderer.' It was with full intent that Roger pushed the boulder down; even if the grownups chose to ignore that. "What are you doing out here by yourself?" He questioned. He should have fought back on that island! He should have done something earlier! How was it fair that Piggy was dead and not Roger? It did not make any sense to Ralph.

"I simply like being alone," the other boy replied. "You must like it too."

"It depends on the company," he stiffly answered. Without another word, Ralph stepped by him and continued on into the galley. He could feel Roger's intense gaze follow him the entire way, but he did not bother to look back. He was still wary that he would produce a spear sharpened on two sides and come after him. The galley was crowded with both the men and the boys. All of them looked like schoolboys again; just thinner and tanner. It was a transformation that Ralph was unprepared for. None of the boys noticed at first, because they were listening to Jack speak. He still managed to have many of the boys enthralled, though some were more interested in food and the naval officers' guns.

"I'll tell you," Jack began, swallowing a piece of bread he was eating. "I shouldn't have let them cut my hair or wash my paint off. The grownups… well, they surprised me and I just froze." He shook his head, now taking a sip of water. He paused for a moment, as if he was contemplating something. "If you ask me, I'd say they think we're babies. They think they know everything. I think we were much better off on the island. We could do whatever we pleased, and now they're telling us what to do again. It's very annoying." Jack's leg was fidgeting in agitation as he spoke. He sighed in almost a theatrical way. Jack loved power, and loved when others listened to what he had to say. "I miss the hunt, you know. What I wouldn't give-"

"Ralph!" was the sudden interruption by Samneric. What twin it was did not matter to Ralph. He knew it was silly to feel some resentment towards the two of them, but he still felt it, nonetheless. If it made any sense, he still felt betrayed by their actions, even though they really could not be blamed for them.

"Hello," Ralph replied softly, now instantly aware that all the boys' eyes were now upon him. Samneric nervously gave him a smile in greeting, though underneath it, were signs of regret, guilt, and apology. He had to learn to forgive those two. Just those two. They were the only ones in the entire group that he felt could be forgiven. Everyone else he just could not forgive. Even the littluns, who did not know exactly what they were doing, were guilty. Ralph felt tense, as if they would spring upon him at any moment.

Finally, Jack and Ralph locked eyes. And Ralph realized that absolutely nothing had changed. They were opposing forces and Ralph could see in Jack's eyes that he would do the same thing if he could. Jack would still try to kill him. He would still hunt him down, slaughter him, and then put his head on a stick. The only difference now was that Jack could not carry out his desires in a society that would not let him. He was under control again. The two of them merely stared down each other, and neither said a word for a long, tense moment.

"Ralph, do you want to sit with us?" Sam asked hopefully.

"You can have some of our bread," added Eric.

"Yes," he said, not removing Jack from his gaze. "Thank you." He took a seat between the twins, but did not really speak to them. He would not feel comfortable until he left the room again. He was prey in a room full of predators.


	3. Chapter 3

The last chapter! This probably should have been split into a couple, but that is okay! I did the majority of it today. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it! Thanks so much to those that reviewed. Wish me luck! I have to present tomorrow!

There was a moment of silence for the boys. An awkward tension surrounded them all. None of the officers realized it, because they were blind to what the boys had truly been exposed to. Ralph reached forward and slowly began munching on the bread that was offered to him.

The littluns wouldn't even look at him.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jack standing up. He took his lunch with him and walked over to where Ralph was eating. He watched the other boy warily as he approached and said nothing when he sat across from him. What did even one say to someone like that?

Apparently, Jack didn't know what to say either.

Finally, Ralph grew tired of nothing happening, of just sitting in this silence. "What do you want?" He asked coldly.

"Nothing," Jack responded, taking another bite of his food. "I've just come to talk."

"Well, there's no need. We have nothing to talk about." Ralph couldn't help but add. "Because I thought you didn't like talking things out." He'd rather bully and kill! The two did not say a word to each other for a very long time. Ralph stood up to leave, and Jack stood to throw his plate out.

"Ralph," he called, throwing it in the garbage. "There's no need to be angry. Listen to me, okay? I think I've figured it out."

"I don't have to listen to whatever you say! I don't care!" He told him, turning away.

"I realized that what happened is natural. It's about Piggy."

Ralph froze in his step, before he slowly turned around. How could he even dare to bring up his name?! "What?" He asked, fury appearing in his eyes.

"Don't you see Ralph? They teach us these things in school. You've heard of Charles Darwin? Well, his theory is right. The strong like us go on to live, while the weak will die off because they aren't worthy. Like Piggy. He was fat, and stupid, and he couldn't do anything right. He deserved to die."

"Take it back!" he roared, jumping forward with a surge of intense rage to tackle Jack to the floor. Immediately all of the boys' attention fell onto the fight. The men, while seeming a little concerned, did not interfere. They did not know of the true savagery of the fight.

"Get him Jack!"

"Ralph, stop him!"

"Stop it!"

The boys rolled around on the ground, yelling and calling the other names. It was a vicious fight, full of kicks and punches.

"Take it back!" Ralph screamed, rolling on top of Jack. His nose was bleeding. He grabbed Jack by his collar and shook him. "Take it back, take it back! You bloody coward! You monster!"

"Get off of me!" Jack spat with venom, as he managed a kick to Ralph's stomach. The boy groaned, letting go of his collar. At this opportunity, Jack gave a strangled shout that reminded Ralph too much of a war shout. He kicked Ralph off of him, and onto the floor. They struggled for power, as Ralph tried once again to get the upper hand. It failed once Jack managed to pin him down. He hit him once.

"You're stupid Ralph!" Another hit. Ralph raised his hands to defend himself. "We should have gotten you on the island!" Another hit. Jack's face was bruised, while blood gushed down from Ralph's nose onto his white shirt. Some of the littluns were crying, while in the distance Ralph heard an officer shouting.

"That's enough boys! Stop!"

Jack did not seem to hear him, or he was simply ignoring him. "I'm chief!" Jack yelled, nearly sounding insane. "Do you hear that?! I am chief!" And in a brutal act of savagery, the red-haired boy reached forward and wrapped his hands around Ralph's throat. He started gasping for any air. Jack squeezed down on Ralph's throat as hard as he could manage. Ralph squirmed, desperately thrashing for survival. He clawed at the other boy's arms, digging his fingers into his skin, but Jack wasn't budging. He coughed, his vision beginning fuzzy, black spots appearing in his vision, when the pressure was suddenly lifted off of him. He inhaled wildly, greedily gulping for any air he could.

The officer ripped Jack off of Ralph's body, dragging him up by his arm. "What the hell is the matter with you, boy?!" He yelled. "You're English! Not a savage!" He was yelling, but there was fear in his eyes. A grown man was frightened by what he had just witnessed in Jack; intent to murder, and madness. Ralph could hear his yelling, but he was not really registering anything else at all. He let his head fall completely on the floor, as his eyes shut. He panted heavily as his body recovered. Tears stung his eyes, and he could feel the bruises on his neck.

"Ralph!" cried one of the twins. "Are you okay?! Here, I brought you a napkin!" He opened his eyes, and slowly reached forward to take it. He didn't move for a few minutes. Finally, he forced himself to sit up, and pressed the napkin to his nose. He was being stared at by the boys and the men.

Roger made his appearance, stepping inside after the officer removed Jack from the mess hall. He had a small smirk on his face, but there was only maliciousness behind it. "That looked interesting," he merely said.

He spent the remaining time back in Mr. George's quarters. Ralph could tell the man was getting tired of having the boys on board his ship, even him. He took up space, but he absolutely could not return and face Jack. He'd been having a lot of nightmares, and the commander would always wake him up from them. It always involved the same thing. Jack, painted in his war paint, chasing him down through fire. He would chase him down until he caught him, and then strangle him with his bare hands. Mr. George would tell him how loud he was; that he would be screaming from the nightmare. Ralph believed that the commander was starting to understand, just a little, of what had happened on that island, though he was actively choosing to do nothing about it. People were all the same. Jack hadn't been punished for what he had done, because no one wanted to acknowledge it. As the ship came closer to London, the more his dread increased.

"We're here, lad," Mr. George announced on a grey morning. Ralph merely nodded. "Take care of yourself," he told him, giving the boy an awkward pat on the back.

He felt nothing as he walked off the ship. The other boys had already disembarked, and Ralph would never have to see Jack again. He felt small as he stepped back into civilization. People were everywhere; sailors, navy men, civilians. He walked through the crowds of people, seeing the familiar faces of the boys throughout the crowd. Some of them sat alone, others were taken by volunteers, and a rare few were embracing their parents. Ralph began to look around for anything. He did not see his mother or father, or anyone. It was so noisy, that it began to physically hurt him. It was too loud, too full of _life_. Or was life merely ignorance?

"Ralph?" A woman questioned. He turned around and saw his aunt. She was his father's sister. "Ralph! Oh my god!" She quickly hurried over to him and enveloped him in a hug. He flinched in a tense position, before he awkwardly returned her embrace. "We all heard the news of a warship that picked up schoolchildren from an island. We heard your name! Thank the Lord you're okay!" He really wasn't.

"Yes, I'm fine," he mumbled against her. "Where is mother?" He asked. He didn't really expect his father to be here, because he was on duty. His mother however, he especially needed right now.

Her smile disappeared instantly and she looked upon Ralph with pity. She bit her lip and crouched down to meet his height. She laid a hand upon his shoulder. "Ralph… It was two weeks ago... The Germans. Well… they dropped bombs in Kingston… And…She's dead. I'm so sorry, darling. Your mother is dead."

He was speechless. He could feel everything breaking inside of him, but everything remained fixed on his face. There was no change. "…Oh," was all he had to say. "Oh."

The nightmares continued, and his father never came home.

He could see Piggy in them all the time, getting crushed by the boulder over and over again. In a haze of red he saw Simon's terrified face. He pleaded and cried and begged the boys not to do this. In the dream, Ralph drew his blood first, his own stick being plunged into the gentle boy's body. And in the worst ones, he'd look into a mirror and see himself painted with war paint, looking like a savage.

The Lord of the Flies would speak through him.

_"You think you are better than them, Ralph?" _His own mouth would speak these words. _"Jack and Roger have seen who they really are .While you try to deny it, they embrace it. Who is more of a Beast? You're worse than them, boy! You cannot hide from me now that you know what I am. I will be with you always. A lifelong companion! You cannot forget me. Why? Because. I. Am. You." _

Two months after he arrived back home in London, his aunt and uncle took him to a doctor. It did not help him in the least that he was forced to talk to him.

"What happened on the island?" He was asked multiple times by both the doctor and his new guardians.

No one would ever truly believe him. If they did, they would move forward. He couldn't. "Nothing," he would always snap in return.

He did tell his doctor of the nightmares he had been having, leaving out the most important details. He told of his increasing anxiety and fear. He told of how he hadn't made any friends in his new school because he was afraid of the other children.

"I would say he has a case of battle fatigue or shell shock. But that's preposterous! A child cannot develop it. Men do in fighting wars!"

"_Aren't they ignorant, Ralph?"_

Two years later, Ralph was still having nightmares. He had done a phenomenal job of staying quiet, to avoid attracting the concern of his aunt and uncle. He hated what he saw every time he passed a mirror. He was beginning to develop into a man, and was fair-haired and getting taller. That seemed normal. He hated his eyes the most. When he studied them, they reminded him too much of Roger's. And when he thought of Roger, he thought of how he never cried for his dead mother.

"I just don't feel safe," he had said once. He didn't have any other boys over, he didn't talk to anyone, and no girl caught his attention. He kept to himself, and looked out for himself; just like how it always had to be.

_"You have me."_

For his fifteenth birthday, his uncle gave him a pocket knife to carry around, just to ease any fears he had.

_"Ralph, you know the danger isn't on the outside." _

He knew he was going mad; or had been since he was twelve He was always depressed, falling deeper into the void. There was no release, no escape. Ralph desperately wanted help, but no one could give it to him.

He was lost.

One day he walked home from school, taking a few detours to make the trip last a little longer. He craved the walks because they provided him with a distraction of sounds and noise. It did not allow him to be trapped in his own, scarred mind.

It was a cloudy afternoon when he ran into a red-haired youth. The two boys stopped in front of each other in disbelief, neither saying a word to each other. They simply stared.

"What a coincidence Ralph. What will you do to him? Make him suffer. Make him bleed."

"Ralph."

"Jack."

They stood in the middle of an empty side-street. Ralph wanted to turn and run far away. He thought he had gotten away from him, but fate was very cruel.

Jack was the first to speak. "Roger's in an asylum," he said as if he was stating the weather. Ralph's hand went to his pocket, touching the object to feel secure.

"What? Why?" he asked, a panic rising in him. Jack was going to kill him!

"Last year he tried to stab an annoying fat boy in our choir class." A lump formed in Ralph's throat. "He didn't kill him because he missed the artery." He felt absolutely sick. His hand was trembling.

"Well that's splendid," he snapped. He needed to get out of here! "Leave me alone, Jack." He told him, and began to walk past him, his mind clouding over. He really shouldn't turn his back.

"Wait Ralph," Jack began.

"No. Get away from me! Go away!" He shouted, walking a little faster.

"Wait. I just want to..." He caught up to Ralph and put a hand on his shoulder, meaning to turn him around and continue speaking with him. Jack never finished his statement.

_"It will always come down to this. Ralph or Jack. It's you or him, boy. He's going to kill you! That's his plan, Ralph! Are you going to let him do it?!"_

No.

Ralph screamed. It was loud, but he didn't register it over the ringing in his ears. He screamed for the madness and evil inside of him, for help, for anything! It was too late for him. He drew his pocket knife, and spun around. He lunged towards Jack with it. The hunters' cries played in his ears. Kill the beast. Kill the beast. Kill the beast! It was in defense! He knew it had to be! He met no resistance, and didn't remember exactly how it happened.

"T-Thank you," a shaky voice said before it was silenced. Ralph hit Jack with the knife over and over again until the screaming inside and outside of him stopped. He panted heavily as his mind cleared and the knife clattered to the ground.

Then, his eyes opened.

There was blood everywhere. It was on Jack's body, the knife, the surrounding pavement, and on Ralph. The red-haired boy didn't move at all and was silent. Ralph stared, his eyes large and haunted. Blood was even in his fair hair.

_"I wonder… Who was the true monster?"_

"Leave me alone!" Ralph finally broke, sobs racking his body as he grasped the bloodied knife to himself, nearly rocking like a baby in distress. What would he do?!

_"I told you that you would not escape me. Now do you see? You never had a chance. Just like Jack, just like Roger. Just like Simon. Why do you think civilization even exists? You didn't possibly expect to be able to conform back to it did you? Poor Ralph. Poor, noble Ralph. You are not so noble now, hmm? Of course, no human is. You cannot lie to me, as you cannot lie to yourself. You murdered him. Just as you did to Simon, even though you still deny it. Rather tragic, if I might add. Then again, I feed off tragedy. Humanity lives off sadness and death and grief. What an existence."_

The Lord of the Flies' laughter wouldn't stop in his head. He sobbed in desolation and misery, he sobbed for the death he had caused. He sobbed for his mother. The guilt was overwhelming.

Ralph looked up at the sky, tears mixing with blood. It was so peaceful there, unlike the scene on the empty street that probably wouldn't be empty for much longer. He didn't move for a long moment, lost in his madness and grief.

"I can't do this," he whispered.

_'What are you going to do Ralph?"_

"Kill the Beast."

In a quick motion, he thrust the knife into his own chest. He gave a yell of pain, though that was nothing compared to his feeling inside. Ralph groaned and fell to the pavement next to Jack. His heart stopped beating and the last thing he saw was a drop of rain, coming down from the sky.

_"Don't you know I always win?"_


End file.
